


Company on the Road

by Shiny_Red_Cape



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brotp, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Head Cannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_Red_Cape/pseuds/Shiny_Red_Cape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This assumes 4x12 faded to black with Emma/Regina doing shots. Will/Regina friendship (well… non-romance anyway) based on my headcannon that Will has decided to look out for Regina in Robin’s absence. The fic has been up on tumblr for a while but am just now adding it here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company on the Road

He’s not sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the diner because Robin asked him to keep an eye on her (though he did). And he’s definitely not sitting there for the luke-warm offering in front of him that Granny tries to pass off as a bacon sandwich; he’d only ordered it to accompany the whiskey he’s been nursing as an excuse for taking his time. He’s not even sitting there to see the blond sheriff try and draw the ex-Evil Queen into conversation when all of the latter’s focus is obviously on the glass (ah - glasses, they’ve knocked back a fair few) in front of her. That’s the problem with this town; no one seems to appreciate the times when you just need to wallow.

An hour or so later and the diner is empty of customers, save him and the women at the counter. Granny has already confiscated the sheriff’s keys and sent her packing with a call to the Hook bloke, who, it must be said, looked equal parts surprised and gleeful to see her in such a state. Regina, however, is refusing to be disposed of quite so easily Has, in fact, threatened several dire things should any members of her family come walking through that door on a tip-off from the woman. The fact that she couldn’t stay in the diner all night and is in no state to get herself out be damned.

He pushes himself back from the table, chair legs scraping loudly over the floor, and ambles over to where the pair are frozen in a mulish stand-off (or mulish slump into the table top as the case may be).

"I’ll see her home"

He can see it’s with no small effort that Regina raises her head to shoot him a baleful glare, but it gives him the perfect view to watch as she comes to two sluggish realizations.

One, it’s not Robin. Even though she knew it wouldn’t be she hates the not-Robin English bastard for the few seconds her brain will allow her to latch on to any particular purpose.

Two, she’s seen him somewhere before.

When that dim spark of recognition finally lights (her watching the two men hug, knowing after their goodbyes comes hers and then all is lost), she stops making the effort to glare and looks down, unsure what to make of this little kind of kinship.

"What’s your name again?" Granny may be two seconds from getting her gun if she doesn’t get to close the place down, but she’s not about to throw an obviously drunk woman out with a random man.

"I’m Will" he tells her. "Friend of Robin’s".

Ah. She remembers seeing them. That makes things easier. A nod gives him permission, and faced with the choice of him or Snow (or David. Or a combination of the two.), Regina finds it easier to deal with the almost-stranger with the frank, if somehow understanding face.

After the first few attempts to walk go badly, Will resigns himself to the fact that it’s not going to work and maneuvers her into a piggy back. She objects, but it’s hard to inject any real venom when you’re propping yourself up on the side of the bar stool and are having trouble remembering your words. He finally gets them out the door (bloody Christ you wouldn’t think she was this heavy to look at her) and heads for a long walk down the back road through town. Main Street would be a little shorter, but they’ll be enough headaches tomorrow without adding the shame of witnesses to her metaphorical one.

They walk in silence for a few minutes, before a small sound breaks him out of thoughts of other lands, where not all wonders are entirely wonderful.

"You smell like him", the admission is mumbled and a sleep-slurred, "Whiskey and f-forest".

He turns his head a fraction to see her purposefully not looking at him, head leaning into the leather of his shoulder. Her eyes are losing the battle to stay open, and if a little wetness has escaped the corner well now that’s none of his business is it.

When she begin to curve instinctively closer to his scent he gives a sigh and lowers her to her feet, turning to anchor her sway as he slides down to sit them on the ground. Let her pretend awhile, if it can give her comfort. Even if she remembers this tomorrow there’s no one but him to see, and he’d be the last to judge what people do in the name of love. He’s seen the bottom of his own bottles enough times.

There’s nothing he can do for her, some pains just have to be lived through.

He reaches into his pocket, skimming over the carefully mended piece of paper collected from the road a few hours earlier, to pull out his own page, with his own love caught on ink and parchment. This is why he’s here (in the back half of town, in the middle of the night, with this stranger-kin passed out against him). Because some things are always worth it, but he understands more than anyone that it can be a long path.

So he’ll keep page 23 safe for now, next to his, until she’s ready to face it again.

(And he’ll find some way of getting Robin’s lady-love home with minimum spectacle. How the hell does he get himself into these things?).


End file.
